


The Legend of the Water-Seeker

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ending Credits Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many were witness to the boy crossing the desert sands, but he spoke nary a word to those in his path. But his purpose was known through the land: The prophets had long since predicted that he would one day seek the sultan—the water-seeker was no myth. Only the traveling storytellers dare to share the legend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legend of the Water-Seeker

**Author's Note:**

> I took certain liberties with the ending sequence for the sake of the story. Consider this an AU to an AU. Maybe. Hey, artistic license. Right?

“Have you ever heard the legend of the water-seeker?”

“Oh, Nagisa. Please don’t share that story with the children.”

But the children had already clustered around them, sitting cross-legged at their feet. The older ones stood outside the group, arms crossed, keeping a skeptical eye on the traveling storytellers. Nagisa gave Rei a devilish smirk, which made the little ones giggle; his companion could only sigh in response.

A hush fell over the chattering crowd when Nagisa opened his arms wide. “It’s said that in the desert, long ago, lived a traveler. Many saw him walking over the barren sands, but he spoke to few. No one knew his identity, but they all knew his purpose.”

Rei adjusted his glasses as he stepped forward. “The search for water.”

* * *

 

It felt like a dream.

It _was_ a dream. That was the only explanation for his being born in the desert. It wasn’t merely dehydration—though that, too, was a constant threat—but Haruka felt _incomplete_ without water. His parents had departed long ago in their own search, leaving their son in the care of Lord and Lady Tachibana. Haruka knew he was blessed to have their son, Makoto, as a friend. There were many days that Haruka wouldn’t receive his water ration, being a legal orphan. Lord Tachibana could sometimes bribe the sultan’s water-bearers for extra, but most mornings Makoto would press his cup into Haruka’s hands and urge him to drink first.

“You need it more than I do,” he would say with a smile, even though Makoto was growing faster than he was.

But as Haruka grew, his body suffered the effects of dehydration more than most. The mere cup they shared was never enough. His throat felt like sand; his once-smooth skin was scaly and dry. And when there was no sign of his parents’ return, Haruka prepared to make the journey himself.

“It’s said that the new sultan is our age,” he told Makoto, when his friend tried to convince him to stay. “Maybe he’ll listen to me.”

“How will you survive?” Makoto cried, holding fast to Haruka’s wrist. “The sultan’s palace cannot be reached in a day. Hundreds have tried to find him and they haven’t come back! What about your _parents?_ ”

 

* * *

 

“But in the dead of night,” Nagisa said, lowering his voice, “Haruka left without a word.”

A small girl sitting at his feet began to cry. “B-but what about Makoto?”

Rei smiled as he crouched before her, drying her cheeks with his sleeve. “Don’t worry about Makoto, little one. Even if the path is difficult, there is always a light for the kindest souls.”

 

* * *

 

The desert was barren. When the sun rose again, his home was dry and hazy in the distance. _It’s not too late to turn back_ , he thought, squinting at the village. Haruka gripped the hilt at his waist. The blade had been waiting for him when he woke, a silent gesture of love and hope from a life-long friend. His camel nuzzled the top of Haruka’s head as he turned away.

He had gone without water before—they all had. But he already missed waiting for the water-bearers; he missed the way Makoto trotted toward him with his meager ration. Haruka rubbed his throat. He was glad that, for the first time, Makoto had the water for himself.

The journey was difficult. They would travel by night and rest during the day, but Haruka had been unprepared for the sudden shifts in temperature. He had been suitably cared for at the Tachibana manor, his bed piled with quilts against the desert’s cold nights. The cloak he packed was not enough; no amount of clothing could keep him warm, even as he jogged over the sands at night. During the day, even as he shed layers, the sweat dripped from his exposed skin.

* * *

 

“That was when we met him,” Rei interrupted.

“Rei!” Nagisa playfully smacked his arm. “That was our _secret_.”

The children huddled closer, and even the older ones dropped their indifferent pretense as Nagisa and Rei whispered in each other’s ears. “Tell us!” they cried, throwing up their arms. “What was he like?” “Did he ever find water?”

“Okay, okay!” Nagisa said with a laugh. “But you have to promise not to tell, all right?” He pressed a finger to his lips.

 

* * *

 

It was natural for a traveler to consult a fortune teller. Nagisa had advised many weary wanderers, scouring the dry alleys for those in need of his visions. Haruka was no different.

Nagisa nodded as the boy approached—he couldn’t have been much older than he was—and he motioned toward the dark, curtained enclosure behind him. But the traveler stared at the curtain without seeing it.

“Water,” he said, his voice dry as dust. If Nagisa hadn’t heard the plea from countless others before, he wouldn’t have understood the word at all. They, too, experienced a draught. Their daily water rations grew smaller and smaller.

He shook his head. When the boy pleaded again, Nagisa upset his canteen; it had long since dried out.

“I can offer you something more valuable than water,” he whispered, hugging the dry canteen. “Would you like to learn about your future?”

The boy shrunk back, and even his camel looked offended as it pawed at the dirt road. “Nothing is more valuable than water,” he said, grabbing the animal’s reins.

The boy had an rare aura, a determination that Nagisa didn’t often witness. “What’s your name?” he asked, before he could turn away.

The boy looked up. Despite his parched, red skin, and beneath his everlasting thirst, his soul shone. His eyes reflected the elixir he sought, deep and dark and blue. “Haruka Nanase.”

“Nagisa Hazuki.” The fortune teller beamed. “Good luck, Haruka. I hope you find what you seek.”

Haruka narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you know the future?”

He linked his arms behind his back as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Some secrets are so deep that even I can’t read them.”

Haruka spoke only a single word to whoever braved to confront the foreigner—“ _Water_.” They had none to offer. His voice was quiet, monotone, but beneath it there was a desperation—a desperation that only Rei would acknowledge.

“I wish I could help,” the palace guard said, genuinely concerned. He placed a hand on Haruka’s forearm. “We haven’t had adequate water for months. It’s rumored that the sultan is hoarding it for himself.”

Haruka’s eyes flashed at mention of the sultan. “Do you know him?”

Rei shook his head. “Not personally. The emir has attempted negotiations, but the sultan is young and selfish. There is little we can do to alleviate our discomfort.”

He stared up at the grand structure Rei was defending, then to the bayonet in his hand. Haruka fingered the hilt of his own weapon. “Can you direct me to the palace, then?”

 

* * *

 

“Whoa!” A little boy sat up straighter, now a full head taller than the others. “You helped him!”

Rei smiled and pushed up his glasses. “Haruka would have found the palace on his own. He was certainly capable of it.”

“Stop being so modest, Rei,” Nagisa said, and the children giggled.

“Well, perhaps I helped a _little_ ,” he offered, lifting his chin in pride.

 

* * *

 

It was several days until Haruka glimpsed the sultan’s palace on the horizon. He had heard of mirages; he would not believe he had reached his destination until he climbed the steps, until he could feel the cool stone under his palms. But as the days progressed and the palace grew larger, he allowed himself to believe that his arrival was no dream. Haruka pet his camel’s neck in gratitude. He held back tears, unwilling to waste precious water.

But his victory was short-lived when a palace guard blocked the grand entrance, drawing his sword as Haruka climbed the steps. “What business do you have here?” the guard roared, training his blade on the traveler.

Haruka stared at the tip of the sword, mere inches from his face, and then up at the guard. His expression remained stoic. The guard’s voice wavered slightly as he repeated himself, demanding Haruka to speak.

He rose to his full height, staring down the length of the blade to the guard’s pockmarked face. “I request an audience with Sultan Matsuoka.” He gripped the hilt of his blade, suggesting that it wasn’t a request at all.

Haruka didn’t have a chance to introduce himself—he wasn’t even asked as he was ushered into the palace. The long hall to the sultan’s quarters were gaudily decorated. Thick, red draperies lined the walls, fluttering as they passed. Real gold was inlayed in the floor tiles, which lead to two heavy, elaborately-carved doors that slowly opened in their approach.

The guard nudged Haruka in the back and he stumbled forward, but refused to kneel in respect to the sultan. Sultan Matsuoka sat on a dais, where everyone who entered had to look up to see him. Haruka remained silent, and the sultan offered no welcome. He motioned to the two guards at his sides.

“You are dismissed,” he said, staring down at Haruka as he spoke. The guards quickly advanced on the traveler to grab his arms. “Not him, you fools!” the sultan barked. “ _You_. Leave him to me.” The guards glanced at each other, bloodlust shining in their gold eyes, before they bowed.

Sultan Matsuoka waited until the heavy doors closed before smiling down from his perch. “The water-seeker,” he said, twisting a finger around the jewels adorning his neck. “You’ve finally arrived.”

“You have water,” Haruka said, stepping further into the room.

Sultan Matsuoka shrugged dismissively. “Do you see any, water-seeker?”

He didn’t want to take his eyes off the sultan, but his thirst overpowered his fear. In the corner of his quarters were several upturned woven vessels. An empty wine glass sat on the floor beside the silk-upholstered throne.

The sultan sighed as he linked his hands behind his head. “If you can find it, you can have it.”

 

* * *

 

Rei cleared his throat. “Nagisa, I would advise skipping this part of the story.”

“Huh?” Nagisa turned to him with pleading eyes. “But why?”

He nervously glanced at the children. “Because it’s highly inappropriate!”

“Tell us, tell us!” they cheered.

“Oh, Rei,” Nagisa said, leaning against his side. “They’re only rumors, anyway.” He winked at their audience. “And we know not to spread rumors, right?”

 

* * *

 

Haruka climbed the stairs to the throne, much to the sultan’s delight. He reveled in watching the water-seeker study him, failing to hide the smirk that crossed his lips as the light faded from the boy’s eyes. When that gaze rested on the sultan himself, he was taken aback by his fragile beauty. The water-seeker had traveled for months over barren land; there was no possible way he was still standing, or alive. But now he cast a shadow over the throne and, for the first time, Sultan Matsuoka lifted his face to another. The scarf had fallen from the boy’s shoulders and left his features exposed—soft yet determined—and the sultan took a quick scale of the corded muscle beneath his dehydrated skin.

“I have nothing for you,” Sultan Matsuoka said, gripping the arms of his throne.

He could have pushed Haruka away when he straddled the sultan’s legs, crawling onto his lap. He could have called for his guards to throw the water-seeker into the dungeon. But the sultan froze as the boy ran a gentle finger down his neck. And then Haruka’s tongue met the hollow of his throat, licking the salty sweat off the sultan’s body.

Instead of killing him on the spot, Sultan Matsuoka _laughed_. He grabbed Haruka around the waist. While the boy lapped at his skin, desperate to absorb his moisture, the sultan reached behind his chair to dip his fingers into a concealed water vessel.

He placed damp fingers on Haruka’s cheek and the boy grabbled for his hand, sucking the cold water off his fingers. He came _alive_ ; his eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the sultan fed him drop by drop, holding dripping fingers over Haruka’s open mouth. He dipped the wine glass into the vessel and held it away from the water-seeker, delighting in the way he whimpered when the sultan drank from it himself. Haruka shoved the glass from his hand and pressed his lips to the sultan’s, his tongue seeking the remnant moisture in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Nagisa laughed as the children squealed in disgust and delight. Rei tried to hide his flushed cheeks in the shadows as he lowered his head.

“It had been prophesized that the water-seeker would appear from a faraway land,” Rei breathed. “The sultan had been waiting for him.”

Nagisa placed a hand on Rei’s shoulder to gently push him aside. “But then”—he swept over the crowd, meeting each expectant child in the eye—“both the sultan and the water-seeker _disappeared_.”

 

* * *

 

Captain Mikoshiba of the Royal Guard was concerned. He had arrived right away when learning Sultan Matsuoka’s guards had been dismissed, leaving him alone with the silent traveler. He nervously hovered outside his quarters, waiting for the sultan’s sign that the guards should reenter—but the room remained silent. There had been a shattering of glass and the distinct sound of the sultan’s low laugh, but no command had come. Before long, Captain Mikoshiba ordered his subordinates to open the doors.

“I’m going inside,” he said, unsheathing his sword.

But the room was empty.

* * *

 

“Some legends say that the sultan killed the water-seeker, permitting him to drink and then sending him into the desert to die.” Rei paused, adjusting his glasses. “But that can’t be truth—for then what happened to Sultan Matsuoka?”

Nagisa jostled him aside and grinned. “Others say the sultan was so enthralled with Haruka that they ran away together for lands beyond the desert. They discovered a place where there was so much water that you could swim in it, and it never ran out. I like this version better, because everyone has a happy ending.”

A little girl stood to tug on his vest. “But what about Haruka’s friend? Where is Makoto?”

“Makoto became his own traveler,” Rei replied. “Ask anyone if they’ve seen the gentle giant, and they will share fond tales of a helping hand and a warm smile.”

“But don’t think they’re separated forever,” Nagisa added. “True friends never leave your side.” He nudged Rei with his shoulder. “Sometimes the gentle giant disappears from the desert too, but he always returns to visit his family and help those in need.”

“So he knows where to find Haruka!” a child in the back cried.

“Perhaps,” Rei said with a smile. “And perhaps one day you will know as well. Where there is water, you will find the water-seeker.”

* * *

* * *

 

“You did well today, Rei-chan,” Nagisa said, crawling into their shared tent.

“ _Rei-chan_?” Rei peered over his glasses as Nagisa spread out on the bedroll. “It’s been a long time since you’ve called me that.”

Nagisa wrapped an arm around Rei and nuzzled his shoulder. “I love when we tell that story. It’s my favorite.”

Rei nodded in agreement as he folded his glasses into their case, then pulled the blanket up to cover them both. Nagisa’s body was a warm welcome to the frigid night air, to the whipping desert winds. “Do you think we’ll find them?” he asked, staring at the ceiling of their tent.

“Of course!” Nagisa hugged him tighter. “The second Sultan Matsuoka will know. She _has_ to know.”

“Will you please stop calling her ‘the second?’ She won’t give us an audience if you say that in front of her.”

“Why not?” Nagisa pouted. “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

It was fruitless to argue with Nagisa—soon he was fast asleep, dreaming of their next destination, of another group of children eager to absorb their tales. And when their travels ceased perhaps they, too, would find the water, and if they were lucky, encounter the water-seeker once more.

**Author's Note:**

> ([Here](http://trapsandpecs.tumblr.com/post/69133069388) on tumblr.)


End file.
